Only Time
by ClariceLecter
Summary: What if Marilyn Munster had met Francis Muldoon of CAR 54 WHERE ARE YOU? This crossover explains everything. MUNSTERS and CAR 54 fans, please read and review!


ONLY TIME   
a CAR 54 WHERE ARE YOU/MUNSTERS   
crossover fanfic   
by Clarice_Lecter   
  
DISCLAIMER: The character of Francis Muldoon is the exclusive property of Nat Hiken and NBC Television. The characters of Marilyn Munster, Sam "Grandpa" Dracula, Eddie Munster, Herman Munster, Lily Munster, and Herman Munster are the exclusive property of Bob Mosher, Earl Bellamy and CBS Networks. No infringement of any kind is intended.   
  
"Marilyn, are you sure you'll be okay while we're gone?" Lily Munster asked as her niece Marilyn helped her pack.   
"I'll be fine, Aunt Lily," Marilyn replied. "I wouldn't have been able to join you and Uncle Herman and the others anyway, I have to grade finals all this week. Plus there's a new instructor due to arrive next week, and I have to show him around."   
"Well, at least you won't be alone the whole time. What IS this instructor's name, anyway?"   
Marilyn smiled. "Francis Muldoon, Aunt Lily. He used to be a policeman in New York City until he got shot three years ago. Now he's an art professor."   
Just then Marilyn's 14-year-old cousin Eddie entered the room. "Mom, you ready yet?" he asked. Eddie had long outgrown his black velvet schoolboy outfit and now wore blue jeans, a black t-shirt and matching leather bomber jacket, and a backward OZZFEST baseball cap.   
"I'm coming, Eddie, just keep your shroud on," Lily joked. "Did you help Grandpa and your father load up the SUV?"   
"Everything's all packed, but Pop threw his back out again."   
A worried look crossed Lily's face. "Oh, dear, that's the third back this year," she said. "And we won't be able to fly back to Transylvania to see Dr. Frankenstein for another month!"   
  
Grandpa helped Herman into the back of the Munster Hummer, a souped-up Humvee that made the old Munster Koach look like a Rent-a-Wreck. "Are you gonna be in any shape to drive at all, Herman?" he asked.   
"No," Herman groaned, the pain coursing through his 7-foot-5 manufactured body as he lay in the backseat. "I'm afraid Lily's gonna have to take the wheel all the way to Miami..."   
Grandpa now got agitated. "Herman, I've got my license too! Lily and I can take turns - !"   
"You've never driven a Humvee in your life!"   
"I can learn, can't I?"   
"Stop this bickering, both of you!" Lily scolded as she and Eddie joined them outside, with Marilyn close behind. "Herman, we're gonna be in Florida for the next three weeks, and I want you and Father to behave yourselves. Is that clear?"   
Herman and Grandpa knew better than to backsass Lily and backed down. "Yes, Lily," Herman replied. "You win, Grandpa, you and Lily can share the driving responsibilities. Just be careful, for Heaven's sake."   
Herman then relinquished the keys to Grandpa before turning to Marilyn. "I wish you didn't have to grade any tests so you could go with us, Marilyn," he said gently. "You have our numbers at the hotel in case of an emergency, don't you?"   
Marilyn's smile widened. "Of course, Uncle Herman. You just be careful with your back and have a good time in Miami."   
"We will, dear," Grandpa chirped. "We'll bring back some souvenirs - maybe a nice fella for you!"   
This prompted Lily to gently nudge Grandpa in the ribs. "Stop that!" she joked. "Let Marilyn find her own man!"   
"With her looks, it won't be easy," Herman winked, "but that's what I love about her. She'll never give up."   
  
Marilyn waved goodbye as the Munster Hummer finally got started, then began its' journey to Miami. Then she locked the gate and returned inside.   
With her suntanned skin, silky blonde hair and beautiful All-American Girl features, Marilyn was considered the ugly duckling of the Munster household. Although the many men she'd dated in her 27 years didn't see it that way.   
Only recently, she'd started questioning that theory herself. True beauty comes from within, not from Max Factor, she reasoned, her self-esteem beginning to take root as her career as a college English instructor had taken off.   
"So what if I don't have a white streak through my hair like Aunt Lily?" she thought. "So what if I don't have blue-green skin and odd-colored eyes like Uncle Herman? Big deal."   
Marilyn went into the kitchen and fixed herself a turkey sandwich, then got out the 2-liter bottle of Lemon Diet Coke and poured herself a glass, over ice, before sitting down to eat.   
She was about to lose herself in her thoughts when someone rapped on the door. She set down her sandwich, covering it with a napkin, and went to answer it.   
"Hi," a gentle voice said when she opened the door. "I take it you're Marilyn Munster?"   
Immediately Marilyn was blown away. At her doorstep, a week early, stood Francis Muldoon.   
  
"Professor Muldoon, you're early," Marilyn grinned as she showed him inside.   
"Please, call me Francis," he replied, returning her smile with his. "I'm not into formalities, y'know, not even with my students..."   
Marilyn showed him into the parlor, then got him to sit on the sofa. "Would you like something to drink?" she asked. "Tea, coffee, diet Coke?"   
"I'll take some diet Coke, please. Got any with lemon?"   
"You like Lemon Diet Coke, too?"   
"It's my favorite."   
Marilyn felt her heart begin to race. "Coming right up," she cooed as she excused herself to go to the kitchen.   
She put up her turkey sandwich for later, then brought out another glass and poured up a second Lemon Diet Coke over ice. Then she brought their drinks into the living room.   
As they talked, Marilyn couldn't believe how handsome Francis had turned out to be. He was at least 37, with neatly combed dark hair, pale blue eyes, graceful hands and full, kissable lips. He was tall, too, 6'7", and looked to be in great shape.   
"I have to admit, Francis, I was expecting someone older," Marilyn confessed. "I thought you were at least 40, 45 years old..."   
"That's okay," Francis reassured her, "I get that a lot. When I taught at New York University for awhile last year, the dean was expecting someone short and dumpy, not a tall, bony guy like me."   
"You're not bony, not at all!"   
"Well, how many art teachers do you know that used to be cops in New York City?"   
  
Francis' candor was refreshing, and he seemed far more real than all the pretentious men from Mockingbird Heights. He had lived with his mother Amelia until her death three years ago, just before he was shot and almost killed, and when he made the decision to move he'd let his surviving sister Peggy keep their family home.   
"If I may ask, where were you shot?" Marilyn asked. "That is, if you don't mind telling me."   
"Hope you don't mind if I show you," Francis replied, already beginning to trust her. "I don't completely remember that night, so I can't describe it in words."   
With that, Francis removed his suit jacket and tie and began to unbutton his shirt. "I was shot three times," he admitted. "If the third bullet had gone any lower and hit my heart, I wouldn't be sitting here now."   
Francis then removed his dress shirt before pulling off his t-shirt, revealing the scars from where he'd been shot three years earlier. One bullet had gone into his bicep and out the other side, another had hit his shoulder, and another had gone into his chest, barely inches above his heart. "Ugly sight, isn't it?" Francis asked. "You can touch them if you want to, they don't hurt now."   
Shyly, tentatively, Marilyn began rubbing Francis' arm. The bullet scars would never completely fade, but that wasn't what she was focusing on at the moment.   
Francis had a taut washboard stomach and not bad looking pecs, although his left pec was a bit scarred from where he'd been shot. It was the first time she'd ever seen a shirtless man up close, and it was all she could do to keep her restraint...after all, they'd only just met, and he probably didn't believe in love - let alone lust - at first sight.   
Or did he...?   
  
END OF PART ONE 


End file.
